


Hail

by mg0918



Series: Bellarke drabbles [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Camp Jaha, F/M, Post 2x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:01:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3145097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mg0918/pseuds/mg0918
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything around her is blurry and muted and fades into the background, but she’s vivid and vibrant and so very alive. She scorches the ground with her intensity and refuses to be rendered as anything less than she is. He loves her more than a little, here. "</p><p>Sequel to Anything</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail

Clarke doesn’t know how she got here; standing in front of the gate with Bellamy beside her and the remainder of the 100 standing silently behind her, staring coldly at Abby who’s blocking them from exiting.

 

When the 100 first merged with Camp Jaha, things were almost good. The kids (they weren’t really kids, not anymore) were treated with what was almost respect. As chancellor, Abby included Clarke and Bellamy in meetings, asked for their opinions on plans and outings, and let them keep a few of their guns. It was almost good enough. Almost.

It didn’t last long. After they defeated the Mountain Men and returned their people and the Grounders safely, things changed. Slowly, Clarke started getting pushed to the side of meetings while Bellamy was shut out entirely. None of the 100 were allowed to leave the camp, and one night Abby ordered the guards to search their tents and take the guns. They were expected to readjust to the strict control and rigid rules that they had been subjected to on the Ark.

The adults with little to no knowledge or experience about life on the ground had seized authority. Furious, Bellamy and Clarke had called their people together. Bellamy wanted to rise up and take the camp, and he was on the verge of whipping the rest of them into a frenzy when Clarke calmed him with a soft hand and an idea.

She told them her plan with an infectious glint in her eye, growing more and more excited until she was waving her arms around in elation. He loved her a little, in that moment. Slowly (infuriatingly slowly) they started to steal guns that the guards left lying around. They took spare supplies, tents, anything they could get their hands on. They were going to leave. They refused to be treated like children by the people who’d dropped them into a radiation-soaked hell hole.

And now the only thing standing in the way of their independence is Abby Griffin and three armed guards.

Abby is impressed, to say the least. It's a formidable sight, the small army of the remainder of the 100, all armed with guns and handmade knives. They’re all standing behind her daughter, looking to her and waiting for her command. The Blake boy stands beside her, his gun drawn and pointed at the guards. He’s tense, glaring at each of them in turn and ready to take down anyone who might dare to harm her.

The way Clarke is looking at her sends chills down Abby’s spine. There is not an ounce of love or compassion, or even a hint of recognition for her mother. Life on the ground had been cruel to Clarke, she is as strong and unyielding as iron and refuses to bend under Abby’s authority.  She is cold and determined, but Abby can be cold too.

“Clarke,” she says curtly, “this is ridiculous. You and the rest of the 100 will put down the weapons and return to your tents.” Clarke shakes her head.

“We’re leaving, Abby. You cant stop us.” It's  _Abby_ now, not Mom. It's almost enough to break her.

“You’re not leaving. You’re safer at camp. You’re children under our care and supervision and I’m not going to sit by and let you march off. .”

Clarke glares. “We stopped being children the moment you sent us down here to die. You’re no longer in control.” Abby clenches her teeth.

“Clarke we did _not_ send you down here to die!”

“Sending us down here was the alternative to executing us. I think all the adults ‘in charge’ have forgotten that’s what was going to happen to us.”

“All of you are going to put your guns down. NOW!”

To their credit, not one of the kids flinches.

_Holy shit. Holy shit._ Clarke hasn't felt this terrified since they were first dropped to Earth. She’s struggling to keep her voice even and her face devoid of emotion, and she’s praying that no one notices her hands shaking.

Only Bellamy notices. He shifts slightly and brushes her shoulder with his. The brief reassurance grounds her and loosens the knots that are forming in her stomach. She stands taller and throws her shoulders back.

“We’re keeping the guns.” Her voice is cold and even.

Abby tries pleading. “Please, Clarke. You have to trust that we’re doing what’s best for you, what’s best for all of us.” Clarke clenches her fists. It’s taking all her self restraint not to scream at her mother.

“You lost the ability to make decisions for us when you sent us here. You weren't there bleeding with us, you weren't there burying our friends with us. You weren't there when a _twelve year old_ killed Wells, or when Jasper was impaled, tortured, and strung up in a tree. You weren't there when the Grounders tried to wipe us out with a hemorrhagic fever. You don’t know shit about this world or how to survive in it. We built a life here from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears. You don’t get to waltz down and take that away from us.” Her voice had steadily risen to a shout despite her significant efforts but mercifully remains even.

Abby can see Clarke’s pent up rage and frustration spilling over. Her fists are clenched at her sides and she can see her grinding her teeth, just like Clarke’s father used to when he was angry. The damn kids behind her daughter are grinning. But their grins are feral, like they’re curling their lips and baring their teeth at Abby in warning.

The damn Blake boy is staring hard at Clarke with fierce pride and reverence, like she’s the most enthralling thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. Abby’s gut twists, because that’s how Jake used to look at her.

“None of you are leaving this camp and that is FINAL!” Abby snarls.

Clarke grits her teeth but manages an icy smile.

“I’m sorry, Abby, but you don’t have the authority to restrict our movement.”

Clarke can see the outrage and indignation flash across Abby’s face.

“Of course I have authority, I’m Chancellor-” Bellamy steps forward and interrupts.

“And Clarke is the leader of the 100.”

Bellamy is praying to every god he’s ever heard of that Clarke doesn’t look confused or turn to him. They need to present a united front. Disagreement will be seen as weakness.

Thankfully, she doesn’t turn around. She’s holding her head high and her fists are clenched, and Bellamy doesn’t need to see her face to recognize the waves of anger and ferocity coming off of her. He’s so damn proud of her he thinks his heart might burst. Everything around her is blurry and muted and fades into the background, but she’s vivid and vibrant and so very _alive_. She scorches the ground with her intensity and refuses to be rendered as anything less than she is. He loves her more than a little, here.

Clarke is in shock, but she’s careful to keep her face cold and blank. The leader of the 100? Not the co-leader? Bellamy can’t be serious. They’ll have _words_ , later. He shifts forward and bends his head towards her ear.

“ _Ave, Caesar_.” He murmurs under his breath. _Hail, Caesar_. It sends shivers down her spine.

She lifts her chin and raises her hand slightly to signal the rest of them. All at once, they raise their guns and aim them at the guards.

Abby's lips curl and she's grinding her teeth , and for a moment Clarke thinks she’s going to argue. Instead, she waves the guards away and steps to the side. The 100 march through the gates with their guns still raised. Clarke can feel Abby’s gaze burning a hole in the back of her skull, but she doesn’t look back.

 

They walk for a few hours before finding somewhere to camp for the night. Morale in the group is high and they’re talking animatedly about where they can go while they set up their tents. Monty wants to stay in the woods where he can be surrounded by plants, while Miller and Jasper are desperate to see the ocean. Clarke is sitting in front of the fire with her knees drawn to her chest when she feels Bellamy flop down beside her. He has such a stupid, carefree grin on his face that she can’t help but smile back.

His eyes are bright and he’s smiling in a way she’s never seen before. It makes him look younger. He’s so caught up in the excitement of getting away that he slings an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her hair. She freezes briefly and her breath catches behind her teeth. It’s been two months since Finn’s death, since they both realized what was there. Neither of them has done anything since then but the endless nights curled up together and unspoken conversations are proof to each other that they both feel the same.

She leans into his shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh. He strokes her hair, content for the first time in weeks.

“Bell?”

“Clarke?”

“Why didn't you tell Abby that you’re a leader too?”

“We needed to present a united front. We’re united under you, Clarke.”

“I can’t do this without you, though.”

“Of course you can. I wish you could've seen yourself today, it was simultaneously the most intimidating and awe-inspiring thing I've ever seen. You’re strong, Clarke. You can do this.”

“I can’t, Bell. Standing up to my mother was hard enough. I can’t take care of everyone on my own. I need you.”

He’s silent for a few seconds before nodding slowly.

“Okay. You and me, Clarke. We’re in this together.”

She sighs in relief.

“Thank you.” She says softly.

He kisses her forehead.

“Anything, Princess.”

Once she falls asleep against his chest, he picks her up and carries her to the tent he put up. He lays her carefully down on the cot and curls up next to her. They wake up in a tangle of limbs and blankets, with the glittering promise of a new life ahead.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second attempt at writing Bellamy and Clarke, hope you enjoy. I'm working on another story that takes place a little after this one.


End file.
